


Just This Twice

by leafingbookstea



Series: The Ignoble Twin [2]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Evil Twins, F/M, Family Reunions, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, You wanted a sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-02-15 16:06:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13034649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafingbookstea/pseuds/leafingbookstea
Summary: James, The Ignoble Twin is back!





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been a year in my head and a month in the making. I hope it lives up to the hype, LOL! I suggest that QuiltingMom and Tannie MA read Chapter One through their fingers. It will get easier after that, I promise.
> 
> You can read the first fic in this series, Just This Once, but it is not required.

** Just This Twice **

****

** Prologue **

****

TO: The Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher

FROM: Detective Inspector Jack Robinson

 

ARRIVING 12 NOVEMBER SOUTHAMPTON SS ASIA STOP WILL IMPROVE OVERTURE ON ARRIVAL STOP

 

JACK

 

__________

 

November 10, 1929

 

            Jack was arriving in two days and the thought filled Phryne with more dread than anticipation. Two days ago, she had been looking forward to seeing him, had been sure that the kiss on the airfield would be the last kiss she would have until the next one he gave her at their reunion.

 

That was before she met James.

 

Jack’s brother. His _twin_ brother.

 

 

** Chapter One **

 

November 8, 1929

 

            Phryne walked out of The Embassy Club, a little unsteady on her feet. _Those Eton boys do like their drinks strong_ she thought to herself. Hoping to find a taxi on Piccadilly, she rounded the corner of the alleyway and saw a familiar stride at the other end. _Jack is here already? No, it can’t be him, but …_

           Coming up on the man in the long coat and fedora, she caught the scent of tobacco as she turned him around to face her. _It is Jack!_ Her heart sang, right before she brought his lips to hers.

 

            She knew at that first press of lips that this _wasn’t_ Jack! But he looked just like him apart from the odd mustache that made him look like a bad melodrama villain.

 

            “You are not Jack Robinson. The Jack Robinson I know wouldn’t likely grow a mustache,” she said, “and he certainly wouldn’t reek of tobacco.”

 

            Phryne was confused and her head was feeling as foggy as the damp London night. _This isn’t Jack!_ Her mind kept saying to her, but she was looking at Jack Robinson. She must be!

 

            Letting her instincts take over, she pulled out her dagger and held it to _Jack Robinson_ ’s throat.

 

            “You are not Jack Robinson, mate.” She said again, her accent slipping to Collingwood in her agitation. “Just who the bloody hell are you?”

 

            She felt her attention slipping. _There was something in that last whiskey sour_ she thought. As she slipped out of consciousness, she could swear she heard Jack, _not Jack,_ say

 

“How is Jack-ass? I thought my brother was dead.”

 

* * *

 

          

            Phryne came awake the next morning from some very disturbing dreams and with one of the worst hangovers of her life. She kept her eyes shut to the sunlight streaming into the hotel room; she must have forgotten to close the drapes. She tried to recall the events of the night before but could only remember flashes, images. She had gone to The Embassy Club and met up with a few men of her passing acquaintance, mostly bright young things who weren’t terribly bright but lovely to look at. She had a hazy recollection of the drinks becoming stronger as the night wore on, but she must had left around midnight, got a taxi and went back to her hotel.

           

            She also remembered a dream about seeing Jack in an alleyway, but he wasn’t acting like himself and he had a mustache. In the dream, they came back to the hotel and when he attempted to ravish Phryne, he wasn’t quite _up_ to the task. At the end of dream, Phryne went to sleep, naked and unsatisfied.

 

            Phryne opened her eyes, grateful that it was only a dream. Until she saw a shape the bed with her, a long, lean shape with the face of _Jack Robinson_.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

Chapter Two

 

            Phryne nudged the naked man next to her.

 

            “Jack?”

 

            A rough voice answered from under the covers, “I told you last night, my name is James.”

 

            Phryne sat up at that statement and shoved the naked James out of the bed.

 

            “Who the hell are you? How did you get here?”

 

            “Ow! Bloody hell, woman! You weren’t this uppity last night.” James scrambled to his feet and began to look for his clothes.

 

            “If my dreams were any indication of reality, you weren’t either.” She shot back. “I think I have some idea of how you got in this room, but the details are unclear.”

 

            In the morning light, Phryne was able to see all the ways this could not be Jack Robinson. Yes, he had Jack’s features, but certain details were missing. Details she knew from the one night the **real** Jack Robinson had been in her bed. Jack had a scar running from under his rib cage to his hipbone. James had no such scar, but shrapnel scars on his left shoulder instead. His mustache appeared thinner than it had in her hazy memory of last night, but it still did not fit his face.

 

            “You told me you were staying at the Mayfair and I got us a cab.” James was saying, sliding his trousers over his smalls that were gray and seen better days. “You seemed fairly willing to show me a good time. So what if I wasn’t who you thought I was? I was at least in the right family.”

 

            “You’re Jack’s brother?” she spat out. She knew by the way her body felt that he didn’t get a “good time” from her, but the idea that he would even try with her in the state she had been in, repulsed her. She grabbed her black silk dressing gown from the chair and tied it tight around her, as if donning armor for battle.

 

            “Yes, I’m his twin brother. I thought he was dead, so I haven’t been searching for him all this time. Not that I would have if I thought he _was_ alive. We weren’t ever the best of mates.” James finished dressing and stood up, feet together and arms folded. “So who are you to Jack-ass? You seem too much of a toff to be a bit of crumpet for the likes of him.”

 

            “Don’t be vulgar. What Jack and I are to each other is none of your business. Why are you in England?”

 

            “Who I am and why I am here is none of your bloody business, love.”

           

            “Don’t call me that.”

 

            “I’d call you ‘bitch’ but I’ve no desire to see that dagger of yours so close to my neck again. Besides, you never told me your name last night.”

 

            “I wasn’t even coherent last night, yet you tried to take advantage of that!”

 

            “A piece like you doesn’t come my way often, love. Who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?”  
  
            “I am not your _love_.” She spat the word at him. “My name is Phryne Fisher.”

 

            “Knew you were a toff.” He said with a snap of his fingers. “Now I remember seeing you in the papers. The Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher. Well now, I’ll ask again. How does a lady like you know a stiff jack like my brother? I assume he is still with the police somewhere in the Antipodes or did he become more interesting after the War?”

 

            Phryne wasn’t sure how much to say to this man. If Jack hadn’t told her about him, _why didn’t you tell me, Jack?_ he most likely didn’t want to see his brother or at the very least, thought he was dead. She needed to find out more about James.

 

            “I think you should talk to him yourself to find that out.” She said with more confidence than she felt. “Where can I reach you when he gets here?” She hoped, rather than knew, that Jack would follow her.

 

            “Jack-ass is coming to England?” his bark of laughter held no humor, but plenty of scorn. “I’ll believe that when I bloody well see it.“

 

            James loped to the door. _Even his walk is different,_ Phryne thought, _how could I have ever thought for a second that this was Jack Robinson_?

 

            “Don’t worry, love,” he said, opening the door, “I’ll be in touch.”

 

            The door shut a second before her dagger hit the doorframe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I put in sufficient trigger warnings. James did not actually rape Phryne, he couldn't get it up. But the fact that he even attempted to in her drugged state might be difficult for some (beyond your reaction to his being a vile, loathsome slug). My apologies for any distress, it was unintentional.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack arrives in England.

Chapter 3

 

November 12, 1929

 

            Phryne stood by the docks at Southampton, more anxious than she could remember being for many years. Jack’s ship was docking, and while she was looking forward to their reunion and taking their partnership further, there was one major hurdle that remained: James Robinson.

 

            He had disappeared from the hotel and become a ghost. Phryne had attempted several discreet inquires in the last three days to locate him. She called on Scotland Yard, though they were not _nearly_ as accommodating as the Victoria police. The search had yielded nothing.

 

            James said he would be in touch. What did that mean? And when? Phryne’s anxiety quickly turned to anger at the thought of him. How was it possible that Jack Robinson, the most honorable man she had ever known, could have a brother like that? And his twin to boot?

 

            Though most of her ire was for the man with the hideous mustache and unfortunate undergarments, she reserved some for the man she was meeting at the docks. How could Jack have not told her that he had a brother? After everything they had gone through with Janey, he didn’t think to share that vital piece of information?

 

* * *

 

            Jack walked down the gangplank, his eyes searching for red lips and bobbed black hair that had haunted his dreams every day aboard ship. Was it a risk to come to England? Yes, but one he was willing to take for her. For them. He wanted there to be a “them” and hoped that she wanted that too.

 

            He finally spotted Phryne by a Black Rolls, but she hadn’t seen him yet. He wondered if the scowl on her face was for him, and if he shouldn’t walk back up the gangplank now. Mentally calling himself a coward, he walked up to her rather than calling out and getting her attention. If she was going to reject him in public, he would like as few witnesses as possible.

 

            He was almost within arm’s reach when she saw him.

 

            “Jack.” Her scowl turned to a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. This was not the reunion he expected at all.

 

            “Miss Fisher,” he began cautiously, “thank you for meeting me.”

 

            “Oh, Jack, of course!” she seemed to come back from wherever her mind had wandered, looked him in the eye before kissing him with abandon.

 

            Jack was not going to let this opportunity pass him by. He dropped the suitcase he had been holding, took her in his arms, and thoroughly kissed her back. After a long moment, they pulled away, both a bit breathless.

 

            “Hello, Jack. Welcome to England.” The smile this time showed on her whole face.

 

            “Thank you. Though your welcome feels a little delayed. Or did I imagine the angry expression I first saw on your face?”

 

            “I’m not angry,” she began, “at least not at you… not exactly…” her voice began to rise in her uncertainty.

 

            “What has happened since we last saw each other, Phryne? Is it your father?”

 

            “No, Jack, it’s a case!” she had a sudden inspiration, though her voice was still higher than she liked. “I can explain in the car on the way to the hotel. How many bags do you have?”

 

            “Just the one,” Jack smirked, “some of us do quite well with fewer clothes.”

 

            “That’s a subject I intend to explore with you, Inspector,” she laughed, “in great detail. But first we must talk about less pleasant topics.”

 

            They got into the car. She rolled up the window separating them from the driver.

 

            “Jack,” she began, considering it best to get this over with as soon as possible, like ripping off a bandage, “the case involves two brothers.”

 

            “Go on.”

 

            “They were brothers. Identical twins. They both went off to war, though only one came back… their names were James… and Jack…” Phryne looked earnestly at Jack, wanting him to catch on, to stay in step with her as he always did.

 

            “Phryne,” his eyes widened in understanding, “how did you find out?”

 

            “You never told me.”

 

            “You never asked” he replied.

 

            “I told you all about my sister. You were there with me through the whole thing. You couldn’t mention then, ‘and by the way I also have a sibling who died’?”

 

            “He died in the War, Miss Fisher. Neither one of us talk about the War unless we have to.”

 

            “You didn’t think I would find that relevant at some point? What about Warwick Hamilton? He had a twin brother who died in the War…”

 

            “I think I was too distracted by the ‘sanctity of the boudoir’ to tell you about me. I’m not proud of that, but it’s true.”

 

            “Jack…”

 

            “Phryne, please. We never talked about me, we talked about cases to solve, and sometimes that involved your family, so then it would come up. If there _was_ a case involving my family, I would have said more.”

 

            “You told me about Uncle Ted. That wasn’t part of a case, Jack.”

 

            He sighed. “Phryne, why the sudden interest? You never even saw my house in the two years we worked together in Melbourne.”

 

            “Would you have let me?”

 

            “You never asked.”

 

            “Dammit, Jack. I’m asking now! Tell me about your brother.”

 

            “His name was James. We were twins, though I was born first, after 11:30 pm on Halloween night. James didn’t arrive until just after midnight the next day. Our parents didn’t make us do things together, or share a room, or even dress us alike as I recall. We were allowed to be individuals, and we were. Very different from each other. James always made the reckless choices. He enlisted first, as a matter of fact. When we were growing up, he got into all the scrapes, and my parents looked to me to get him out of them.

 

            “The last time we talked was the day he enlisted. He had spent the previous night in the drunk tank. I was the arresting constable.”

 

            “He died at Galipoli. My father received the telegram, showed it to me and we never spoke about it again. Not even when he died of influenza two years later. My mother died when I was 16, the year before I met Rosie. So, after my father passed, I was alone, apart from Rosie and George.

 

            “Oh Jack, “ was all she could think to say after that speech. It was the most he had ever told her about himself. How was he going to take her news?

 

            “You are not alone, you know, Jack. You have…”

 

            “You, Phryne? Or at least I hope I do. I don’t want to own you, or belong to you, but if you are willing, I would like to belong with you.” He drew her into his arms.

 

            “I have never asked anyone to come after me; you must know that.” She caressed the lapels of his coat.

 

            “I do know that. I still can’t believe it, but I do know.”

 

            “Jack, there is more than just me. There’s…”

 

            “If you say Collins or Dot or Jane or…” he chuckled, “your Aunt Prudence…”

 

            “Dammit, Jack! Stop interrupting! I’m trying to tell you! Your brother is still alive!”

 

            He pulled away from her in shock. “What did you say?”

 

            “James is still alive, Jack. And he is here in London.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the last update until after Christmas. Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne Fisher explains it all to Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! I got this in before the end of 2017! Now that the holidays are over, the chapter updates will be a bit more regular. Happy New Year!

            "That’s impossible.”

 

            It was all Jack would say from the car to Phryne’s hotel room. She led him where she needed him to go, his movements automatic. She directed him to a chair in the sitting room of her suite while she called down to room service. A silver tea service with finger sandwiches and scones was brought up and laid out on the table in front of Jack, all the while he gave no indication that anyone was in the room with him.

 

            Phryne closed the door after the bellhop and turned her attention back to Jack with a worried glance.

 

            “Jack? Where are you?” Phryne had seen the signs before. Jack was not in the present with her; his mind was completely in some significant past memory. He could not hear her. She tried a different tack.

 

            “No need to get up, Jack. I can undress myself right here. Since you are not paying attention, I can be as _au natural_ as I would be if I were alone.”

 

            That seemed to work. Jack shook his head once to clear it and looked up at Phryne. “Two steps ahead of me as usual, Miss Fisher?”

 

            “Needs must, Jack.” Phryne gave him a slow smile. “Where did you go?”

 

            “I was back at my father’s house in 1919. He had kept the telegram only long enough for me to see it. I watched him toss it in the fire.” Jack stood and took Phryne’s hands. “James was my brother only because we had the same parents. In all other ways, he was a stranger to me. I thought he was dead. If I grieved at all, it was for the man he might have been had he made different choices.”

 

            “But he is alive, Jack. I saw him. I thought at first it was you.”

 

            “What kind of welcome did he receive?” Jack asked with some hesitation. He was afraid of her answer.

 

            “I was not quite myself. Someone at the Embassy Club had slipped me a Mickey Finn, as the Americans say. I kissed James…” Phryne heard Jack’s sharp inhale, “…and then I passed out.”

 

            “Did he… “ Jack swallowed, bracing himself “…did he take advantage of your unconscious state? I remember James as an opportunist, first and foremost.”

 

            Phryne looked in his eyes, knowing this would be as difficult to hear, as it would be to tell. “He tried. He was… physically unable to carry out his intentions. “

 

            “I will kill him.” Jack’s voice held an eerie calm, “Or did you already complete that task?”

 

            “He is still breathing, or at least he was two days ago. When I awoke the next morning, I found him naked in my bed. Any doubts I had about him being you were dispelled when I looked at his body.” One of Jack’s eyebrows arched at that comment.

 

            “His scars were different. He didn’t have the long scar you have on your abdomen, for one.” She imparted this information in such a casual manner that he almost forgot the circumstances under which she would have found that out. He blushed a little at the memory. _So, she did undress me,_ he thought. _I should have known she would._

           

            “He told me who he was and he said that he thought _you_ had died in the war,” Phryne continued, “He also had much the same reaction to your living as you did to his. He tried to claim that something happened between us the night before, but I knew it was sound and fury, signifying nothing. He left and said he would be in touch, but he hasn’t contacted me yet. I believe he is aware of the reception he will get.“ Phryne was attempting to bring some levity to the situation. She had seen an angry Jack before but this was different. She was reminded of the lions in the circus, ready to kill anyone because they had been caged so long. “Let us say that he knows my dagger in an up close and personal way, and knows that I am fully capable of using it.”

 

            Jack smirked in spite of himself at the image she presented, and some of his anger dissipated. Phryne was unharmed; he was relieved to hear that. James, however, would not be so lucky. A rumble from his stomach interrupted his musings.

 

            Phryne heard it too, and smiled. “Eat something, Jack. I have plans for you, and you will need your strength for what I have in mind.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack gets some food and...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an almost entirely smut-filled chapter. I offer no apologies. For anything.

             Jack returned his teacup to its saucer and stood up, taking Phryne by the hand as he did so.

 

            “Thank you, Miss Fisher. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” He pulled gently on her hand and she stood, gliding her hands up the lapels of his jacket.

 

            “Are you fully sated now, Jack?” She looked up at his face while her fingers played with his tie.

 

            “Not even close.” He touched his lips to hers. He meant to start slow, start a low fire burning and fan the flames, but the feel of her lips on his was incendiary. Suddenly, his hands were on her hips, her fingers in his hair. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck, her fingers back to his tie to loosen it, then throw it off. His fingers moved up to the fastenings at the back of her dress, her fingers began on the buttons of his waistcoat. Her dress was pooled at her waist, his mouth descended to take in her nipple through the silk of her chemise. Phryne’s moan of pleasure ignited Jack even further and he helped her to remove his shirt, braces, and trousers. He pulled away long enough to remove her chemise without damaging it and paid loving attention to the other nipple on his return.

           

            Phryne pulled his head up with her hands and reclaimed his mouth with hers. She shimmied slightly and her dress pooled at her feet. She could feel Jack’s rampant desire for her between them. He let out a deeper moan when her hand caressed him through his union suit, igniting him further.

 

            “Please, Phryne, I won’t last if you keep… doing that…” he managed to say. What she was doing felt incredible, but he wanted them to be together their first time, not have it end quickly because he had no control over his own body. It had been some time since he had been with a woman, true, but he was no callow youth who could think only of his own pleasure.

 

            “Jack,” Phryne was opening the buttons on his union suit now, kissing her way down his chest with each button undone, “we have all the time in the world. Better to take the edge off first, and then we can proceed slowly.“ That was all the warning he got before she licked him from base to tip and he forgot all his valid reasons. All he could do was look down and watch her, her cheekbones even more defined as she suckled him. His strangled “Phryne…” and a hand on her shoulder were the only warnings he could give her before he saw stars and his legs could no longer hold him up.

 

           

            He gratefully fell into the chair behind him while Phryne stood up and delicately wiped the side of her mouth with her thumb. When Jack could open his eyes again, he saw her above him, still in knickers and stockings, watching him.

 

            “Still hungry, Jack?” She was smiling and sat down on his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs. He kissed her and he could still taste himself on her tongue.

 

            “You still make hungry where most you satisfy, Phryne.” Jack paraphrased, “I still have more courses I want to sample.” He kissed her collarbone before returning to her nipples, alternating between left and right. With her on his lap in this position, he could feel her damp knickers, and hear her small sighs of pleasure. That he could have that effect on Phryne Fisher gave him a renewed strength in his legs, which had gone quite wobbly with the force of his orgasm. He brought her legs around his waist and stood up, making his way to the bedroom.

 

            She gave a little gasp of surprise and held on to his shoulders until they reached the bed. Once there, Jack removed his union suit and watched as Phryne removed her knickers, stockings, and garter belt in a slow striptease.

 

            “You already know how much those stockings and garters affect me.” Jack lay down below her on the bed, kissing her knees and making his way up the inside of her thigh.

 

            “How much?” She was starting to pant.

 

            “Would you like me to show you?” His mouth arrived at her apex of her thighs.

 

            “More than anything.” Phryne couldn’t speak for a while after that, but the sounds she made were ones Jack would never forget.

 

            When she moaned out the last of her climax, Jack lay beside her and watched her in her ecstasy. If he thought her beautiful before, she was stunning now. Phryne Fisher was gorgeous in her pleasure. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

 

            “Still a never-ending source of mystery.” She caressed his cheek.

 

            “So now you don’t mind that I didn’t tell you everything about me?”

 

            “Let’s just say there are some things I am pleased to be surprised by, and leave it at that.”

 

            “Fair enough.” Jack went to kiss her again, and pulled back. “Is your device…?”

 

            “Yes, Jack. I want no surprises when it comes to that.”

 

            “Nor I.” Jack took her in arms again and began to explore more pleasurable topics.

 

            Their lovemaking was slow after that, learning about each other by touch. Phryne ran a finger down the scar on Jack’s abdomen, giving in to the ridiculous notion that she needed to confirm this was really Jack. Of course it was. He wasn’t another lover to ravish or be ravished by, only to leave in the morning. This was Jack Robinson, her partner and her friend. He knew her better than anyone and followed her halfway around the world, just because she had asked him to.

 

            It was easy for them to communicate this way too. They made love with each other the way they danced, slow and close. They found a rhythm that was theirs alone and climaxed again, she slightly ahead of him, as always.

 

            They pulled the bedding up around them and dozed, both fully sated.

 

            Jack woke sometime later and tried to leave the bed without disturbing Phryne. He didn’t need to be so careful; she was a sound sleeper. He padded to the well-appointed en suite bathroom. He spied a men’s silk dressing gown on the bench by the vanity and noticed it bore a striking resemblance to the fabric of one of his favorite ties. He chuckled to himself at her cheek and drew a bath.

 

            He finished his bath and went back out to the bedroom to see if she was awake, knotting the belt of the dressing gown. She had moved, her limbs now spread out over the entire bed space, but she was still living in the Land of Nod. He smirked down at her form, and was going to kiss her awake when he heard a knock on the door.

 

            Phryne awoke to the knocking and saw Jack heading to the door to answer it. She could not see who was at the door from the bedroom, but could see Jack opening the door. The visitor’s voice, however, was familiar.

 

           

            “Hello, Jack-Ass.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James gets what he deserves, part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RL got in the way of last week's update. Sorry about that!

            Jack’s fist connected with James’ face without a second thought. Before James could stagger back out of his reach, Jack pulled him into the room by the lapels and shut the door.

 

            “Good to see you too, Jack-Ass.” James remarked, rubbing his jaw and flopping in a chair. “Though I must say I’m surprised to find you still among the living.”

 

            “Get up! You useless, three-inch fool!” Jack roared, recalling the boyhood epithet automatically. His fists were clenched, ready to strike another blow. No one but his brother could enrage him so completely.

 

            “Still letting the Bard speak for you?” James barked out a humorless laugh, not moving from the chair. “Decided to give up the police work and tread the boards after all? Father must be overjoyed.”

 

            Jack’s left fist connected with the other side of his brother’s face. “Where the bloody hell have you been all this time?”

 

            Before he could answer, a voice from the bedroom stopped Jack before he could punch again.

 

            “While I know this is well-deserved, Jack, do hit him on some other part of his body. I, for one, would like answers before you finish him off. “ Phryne’s voice was calm as she leaned on the doorframe, watching them. She had gotten out of bed and donned her robe without either of them noticing her.

 

            “Hello, love. Kind of you to spare my jaw.” James rubbed his jawline again.

 

            “Don’t call her/me that!” Jack and Phryne said together. She looked at him and the silent communication that they had perfected in Melbourne was with them in London. _You want to know the truth,_ her eyes said _, let’s find out together._

 

            Jack looked at her and gave her a tiny smile. And with it, the incandescent rage he felt against James died down to a mild fury. All these years, Jack thought his brother was dead. All the anger he felt about James - and toward him - had no place to go and had been sitting in the pit of soul, festering. He hadn’t acknowledged it until now. He had thought it was the war. Yes, that had been hell and there were too many memories he didn’t want to see the light of day, but this was something else. Jack had punched first before saying a word, something he would never normally do. It was Phryne who stopped him, the one to make him see reason. He almost laughed at the irony.

 

            “I suggest we start at the beginning,” Phryne was saying, “what happened to you during the war, James?”

 

            “Spent some of it in a Turkish prison. Wrong place. Wrong time.” James pretended he didn’t hear Jack mutter “as always” under his breath and continued, “and got captured. Wasn’t let out until Armistice Day and even then there was some confusion with my papers. They weren’t sure who I was, or even where I was from. And since I decided that there wasn’t much left for me in Australia, changed my identity and have been traveling around Europe ever since as James Roberts.”

 

           “But,” Jack interrupted, “that’s desertion, isn’t it?”

 

            “Not really, no. The war was over, so I was no longer a soldier. Besides, I had been labeled a prisoner, not missing, so they assumed I died in the camp.”

 

            “You didn’t think of what that would do to our father, did you?” Jack growled, “Do you know the pain that caused him, thinking you were dead? Not that it matters now…”

 

            “Why should it not matter…? “ A small wince of pain flickered on James’ face, and then it was gone. “When did he die?”

 

            “1920. Influenza.” Jack’s hand started towards his brother’s shoulder as a gesture of comfort, then he decided against it and pulled back.

 

            Phryne saw the small movement out of the corner of her eye and glanced up at Jack. His face was impassive, but she knew there was a deep well of emotion under the surface. She could see they needed talk more, sift through a dozen years of pain and grief before they talked about more recent events.

 

            “I’m feeling a bit cold, Jack. Can I trust you to not kill him while I get dressed?”

 

            Jack closed his eyes, smiled, and gave a slight head tilt. “I can promise there will be no corpses in the room when you return.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm, yeah. I'm sorry it has been so long between postings. James was refusing to tell me anything and wouldn't go where I wanted. And then there were RL things and this little convention in Portland. Thanks to omgimsarahtoo and collingwoodgirl for helping me to jumpstart this story (though they probably didn't know they did) and find out just where it was going. And thanks to flashofthefuse for her quick beta!

Chapter 7

Two pairs of eyes watched Phryne’s retreating form.

 

“That’s quite a handful you got there, Jack-Ass. Didn’t think you had it in you to even try for a woman like that, much less get her in a bed.”

 

 _Hitting him again would be so easy_ , Jack thought, _and so satisfying._ But his control decided to come back from the vacation it had been on for the last half hour and he turned slowly to James instead.

 

“And I would have thought what you did to her, or almost did to her, would have been below even your subterranean level of decency.” Jack's voice was low and cold.

 

“Always ready to rescue the damsel in distress, eh?”

 

“Miss Fisher is hardly a damsel in distress, as you have _pointedly_ witnessed,” Jack smirked a tiny bit at James’ small gulp, the man obviously remembering his encounters with Phryne’s dagger. “You attempted to take advantage of an unconscious woman. Our parents raised us better than that.”

 

“I am suddenly remembering why I wasn’t so keen on returning to Australia. Spare me another of your holier-than-thou, moral high ground lectures, Jack-Ass. As our dear old Dad so often reminded me, I was never going to be as good as you, so why bother trying.” James’ face was one of a pouty child for a brief moment before settling into The Mask, as their mother called it, the inscrutable expression worn by all of the Robinson men to hide their thoughts from the world.

 

“Is that why you went to halfway around the world and changed your name? To escape Father’s disappointment? That telegram destroyed him, James. He was never the same after that.” As he had on many other occasions, Jack questioned how this man could be related to him at all, let alone a twin.

 

“I heard you were dead, Jack” James’ voice had softened slightly, “and I was ‘officially dead’ according to His Majesty’s Government, so there wasn’t much for me in Australia. Unlike you, I didn’t have a wife or sweetheart to go back for, nor did I really want to see Melbourne again. My last view of the place was a jail cell in Russell Street. You made sure of that.”

 

“You started a fight in a pub, James.” Jack interrupted, “What was I supposed to do?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. Pretend you never saw me?” James sighed, “No, that is not what the stalwart, upright, do-the-right-thing Jack Robinson would do is it? It amused me, briefly, when I ended up in that Turkish prison. It was as though I ended where I started. When I was released and they didn’t know who I was, it gave me the opportunity to really start fresh, be someone new, so I took it.”

 

Jack pondered James’ words. It made a certain amount of sense, or at least, he could see the ways in which it would make sense to his wayward brother. The opportunity to change his destiny would attract James like a moth to a flame.

 

“Wait a minute,” the thought suddenly occurring to James, “what happened to Rosie? I’m sorry, Jack. Rosie was a sweet girl…” he began, thinking she must have died. The Jack he knew would have never left her.

 

Jack cleared his throat, knowing, dreading his brother’s reaction. “We…uh, divorced…”

 

“Divorced?!” James barked a laugh, “Go on, pull the other one. “

 

“No, it is true.” Jack ran his forefinger and thumb across his brow in a gesture of embarrassment. “She is living with her sister in Sydney. Melbourne has become, uh, uncomfortable for her.”

 

“Being in the same city with you, I wouldn’t doubt it.”

 

“That’s not the reason, but I really don’t want to discuss Rosie.”

 

“Just as well. While this has been an _interesting_ reunion, I didn’t come back here just so you could hit me. “

 

“Then, by all means, Mr. _Roberts_ , “ came a voice from the bedroom doorway, “explain to us why you are here.”

 

“Someone is trying to do you harm, _love_.” The last word said with a slight smirk, “And, despite what you think, it isn’t me.”


End file.
